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by kabetsu_lettuce



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Fluff, I just want soft rn okay, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Too Much Drinking, others are briefly mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23099860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kabetsu_lettuce/pseuds/kabetsu_lettuce
Summary: Kapkan and the rest of the operators deployed go to a bar after a mission to celebrate, and maybe drink a little too much. However Kapkan misses his fellow artistic comrade and decides to go back to base early to find him.
Relationships: Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Timur "Glaz" Glazkov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





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**Author's Note:**

> Please please please stay indoor as much as you can guys! This fic is set in non pandemic times!! Wishing you all the best of health.

One shot, two, maybe six. Haha six. Anyways, who gave a shit? Not Kapkan, at least not after him and other squamates got back from a shitty hell of a mission where standing for days on end with full attention and guns drawn was a must, not when his EDD set up and some cunt appearing out of nowhere made a new addition to his growing scar collection. All he knew is that he drank, his face was tingly, and he missed Glaz. Fuck. Where the hell was he anyways? 

“Base...sniper, base.” Slurred a barely conscious Thermite, a chuckling Bandit on his side smacking his back, making the American slump further. Kapkan made a mental note to keep track of whatever the fuck he was saying, if that was possible. Base huh? Damn it. He wanted to see the fucker. He needed his scent on him, his callous hands, and the insufferable nicknames that no matter how much the hunter ignored or struck would still be sweetly whispered to him whenever the other caught the hunter relaxed and had the reflexes to dodge the incoming elbows. Why did he agree to come to the bar. Glaz was probably already sleeping or getting ready. Already showered too... he missed his chance to see him shirtless and more importantly soaking. 

Kapkan was too busy daydreaming to notice the bored German had now creeped towards him, eyes sparkling with a devilish glint. At least did not notice until he felt a wet and most definitely frigid cold run down his back. 

“Shit!” He turned quickly, and yeah it had been more than six shots. He fought the blur in his vision, only to see a snickering Bandit standing behind him who dodged an oncoming smack. The German was holding two other massive ice cubes, probably for whisky, which raised the question of how the hell he managed to get the bartender to give them to him. 

“Just trying to help you from drooling onto the floor.” Bandit slung an arm around his shoulder, the scent of beer clogging his senses making Kapkan scrunch up his nose. 

“What the hell would you know?” Kapkan hissed as another ice cube was pressed on his heated face, the cold shocking yet still not sobering him up. 

“Oh, I can tell what’s on your mind, _love._ ” The other drawled, accompanied by an eyebrow wiggle. 

The German quickly dodged a fist, cackling to himself, deciding that he had gotten enough fun out of the Russian. Bandit, twisted away, and how the hell was he so smooth in his movements was a mystery to Kapkan, the man had downed beer after beer without a single bite of food, a force to be reckoned with. 

“Go wank before they pull out the wet floor sign!” Bandit shouted over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, most likely looking for a new victim in his icy endeavour. Kapkan simply answered with his middle finger and a scowl, although in his blurry state he couldn’t even tell if the German had seen it. Whatever. He was already bored of the crowded pub, the dull stories, drinking, and random bar patrons’ hands landing on his back side, accidentally or not. 

He wanted to find Glaz. 

He made his way towards a corner table, mostly housing the designated drivers and those who terribly lost the fight with ethanol. Among them was Finka, who had decided on some soda and a friendly chat with a smiling Castle, a dazed looking Pulse with a definitely just-emptied-my-stomach-look hovering near them as Thermite chugged a glass of what Kapkan hoped was water. Finka looked up from her conversation, shinning a smile his way before slapping his shoulder to greet him. He simply gave her a weak smile back. 

“I will make sure Sasha and the others get home. Miles will leave in a minute if you prefer!” 

He walked to his room, walking fast and determined or at least as much as his intoxicated body allowed him to. He finally made it to base. The ride had been a disaster, stopping every few blocks to ensure their transportation did not become a biohazard and having to hear random facts about the cardiovascular system. It was like the time he had been stuck in the workshop for almost an hour because a certain German started explaining shit to Fuze and him, except he did not care about grenade chucking velocity, but at the least the chances of getting puked on were low at the workshop. 

He was tired, everything hurt, from what – who knows. He shed his clothes, almost tripping when trying to put on his sweats which were annoyingly baggier than he recalled. He had long forgotten his mission for getting back to base, deciding to just collapse on his bed, which he did. Changing his bandages on his thigh be damned. He fell on top of his bed. It was uncomfortable, and lumpy. This was a person. He heard an annoyed groan, Kapkan promptly rolling over, and drunkenly piecing together the fact that these sheets smelled different and the clothes fit a bit strange. Kapkan glanced at the lump next to him on the small bed with half lidded eyes, puzzled for a few seconds until the figure shifted, and piercing blue eyes drowsily blinked at him. 

“Hmm, Maxim?” Drawled Glaz slowly, a hand landing on his cheek with a weak slap. Callous fingers touched the heated skin slowly, uncoordinated caresses landing the offending hand at the front of his face, almost poking his eye. Kapkan felt his face heat up further, if that was possible, he held his breath, hoping the sniper would fall right back to sleep. (Unfortunate for Kapkan people are usually awake after 80kg of Spetsnaz land on them). Glaz blinked a few more times, and Kapkan should have known something was up when the corners of the blue eyes crinkled in a smile hidden by sheets. The sniper trapped Kapkan’s nose between his fingers and covered his mouth with his palm, the hunter’s eyes going wide and then into a glare, refusing to breathe. 

10 seconds passed. 

20 seconds. 

30 seconds. 

40.... 

Kapkan pulled his face away, pulling the sniper’s arm away as he did and gulping a gasp of air. He narrowed his eyes at the chuckling cocoon of sheets. The hunter shifted, his drunken brain offering the tempting choice to stay, however his head cleared ever so slightly to know he would not do this normally. He started pulling away, pushing himself up before falling- or rather- pulled back down suddenly by the collar of the sweatshirt. 

“You stink of vodka, котик (kitten).” Before he could respond, the cocoon had opened, an arm draping the sheet over him and pulling him close. He pulled back, but Glaz clung to him, pushing a leg between his and nuzzling his chest before sighing contently. Breathing evening out again. 

“Timur...” 

“Sleep or I tell Shuhrat you stole his hoodie, love.” The sniper did not look up from his spot, if anything he seemed to have decided his new body pillow was perfect and was already falling back to sleep, not before pushing his face on the hunter’s neck. Kapkan would of normally fought this harder, but he was tired, and his resolve had essentially melted as soon the sniper had buried his face against him. He gave out an annoyed huff, but was already shifting closer, arm also draping over the sniper, lulled into peace by the gentle breath tickling his neck, and a hand slowly caressing his side softly. The mission and the pains were now a lost thought, all he could focus on was the sniper in his arms holding him close. Kapkan rested his nose in Glaz’s hair, breathing in his scent and the shampoo, the wet strands tickling his face but he couldn’t careless anymore.  
He was home.


End file.
